


Holding Your Hands

by Meepzer



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Basically just a retelling of Something Bad Is Happening onwards, Finished, It ends after he dies, Love, M/M, Musicals, Not A Happy Ending, Theatre, i don't know why i made this so sad, sorry - Freeform, sorry about that, this was hard to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meepzer/pseuds/Meepzer
Summary: Death had always frightened Whizzer-- mostly the uncertainty of it. The constant reminder that he had no idea when he would die-- soon or decades from now-- was just overwhelming to him. But now, with his grasp on life slowly loosening and death’s looming presence becoming more and more apparent, death didn’t scare him much anymore.





	Holding Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, please enjoy!

“It bounced in,” Whizzer said as he watched the bright, lime green ball roll away. He was determined to win.

That was a lie. The ball didn’t really bounce in. Whizzer just hadn’t been feeling well, not at all, and wasn’t making any points during any of their rounds. He was weak and was rapidly losing weight, and he’d been having a pounding headache for days now. Not to mention the coughing and sweating. Whizzer kept telling himself that it was just a cold and he’d be better soon. It wasn’t worth worrying Marvin about it or anything like that.

“No, it didn’t!” was the distant reply Whizzer heard from across the court as Marvin went to get the ball.

“Hit the line, you know it did!” Whizzer put his hands on his hips, keeping up his confident, healthy facade. Marvin sauntered back to the court slowly, standing next to Whizzer. 

“Just serve it again.”

“Are you kidding? Who’s telling who how to play?” Whizzer spun his racket around. 

“Oh, geez, sorry for winning a single game,” Marvin replied sarcastically.

“Serve it up.” Marvin, ready to attack, didn’t bother to argue. He threw the ball in the air and served it. Whizzer dove toward it, ready to start a rally, but missed. Jumping toward the ball took the wind out of him, and he stood still for a moment so his head could stop spinning. “Damn it.” The ball was served once again. 

Whizzer raised his racket again. 

Miss.

“Good serve, Marvin,” He murmured quietly. He was breathing hard, sweat causing his hair to stick to his hot face, his lungs hurting with every breath he took. He felt dizzy.

The ball was served one more time, and… he missed. 

“Hit my heel,” Whizzer said finally.

“Don’t be bitter.” 

“No big deal, the game is yours,” he shrugged nonchalantly. Whizzer was ready to end the game there, not feeling very hot. If he wasn’t been feeling good on a normal day, then a game of fast and hard racquetball certainly wasn’t helping.

“This is unreal! You’re a quitter!” Marvin said, putting a hand on his own hip. Whizzer sighed. 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Marvin picked up the ball and arched an eyebrow toward his boyfriend. “You could at least try to be a decent loser. Give me that.” Whizzer’s competitive spirit flared and he raised his racket. 

“Excuse me! I’m ready to go! I’m… I’m...” Whizzer wasn’t ready. His racket clattered to the ground and his knees buckled. Whizzer collapsed, barely stopping his fall with his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said between heavy breaths. Marvin kneeled down next to Whizzer, putting a hand on his neck. They stared into each other’s eyes, apprehension rising in Marvin’s stomach and bile rising in Whizzer’s. Marvin gently lifted Whizzer up. 

“It’s--It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I’ll call Charlotte. You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay.” Marvin murmured this to Whizzer repeatedly, trying to stay calm and not letting his voice crack. Marvin grabbed Whizzer’s hand and held it tightly. They slowly stumbled out of the court, as Marvin realized with a start that Whizzer’s clothes were frighteningly baggy. He hadn’t noticed, and that scared Marvin to death. 

That’s how they knew something was wrong. 

 

***

Marvin pulled a red hoodie over his head as he walked down the blindingly white hallway of the hospital. His heart felt clenched like it always did when he entered the building. When he was home, Whizzer’s illness didn’t seem as serious as it was. But seeing all of the tubes and monitors and having the general knowledge of his lover being in a hospital for a serious sickness made everything seem too real. But he preferred being at the hospital to their home. It was too quiet at home, and sleeping alone in his normally shared bed felt alien to him. He hadn’t had a good sleep in a while and started spending way more time at Charlotte and Cordelia’s house than normal. He just couldn’t take the silence for very long. 

Marvin shook the thoughts out of his head as he pushed open the familiar door leading into Whizzer’s hospital room. Whizzer was sleeping, his once muscular, now thin arms tucked under his white feather pillow. Marvin watched him fondly for a moment before greeting him.

“Hello!” Whizzer’s eyes opened slowly as he registered the room. His gaze fell on Marvin and he replied, 

“Good morning.” Marvin smiled and walked toward his bed. 

“You’re looking very good today, kid! Much better than the last time I was here.” He adjusted Whizzer’s bed so he was sitting up. 

“Yeah?” Whizzer didn’t look like he believed it completely, but his smile didn’t leave his face.

“Yeah! I almost had a heart attack last time. But you’re looking very healthy now. I bet you’ll be out of the hospital pretty soon!” Marvin said, almost convincing himself.

“I hope so. I can go back to whooping your butt at racquetball.”

Marvin pressed his lips to Whizzer’s warm forehead and opened the blinds of the window, letting a bit of light in. Although he wasn’t the most positive person (Marvin was pretty much a hardcore pessimist), Marvin tried being as optimistic as possible when Whizzer was admitted into the hospital. It was hard on everybody and he didn’t want Whizzer’s sick days to be filled with people worrying. 

For example, Cordelia and Whizzer had become pretty close friends after they met, and she was devastated after he was diagnosed. Almost every day a new bouquet of flowers arrived in Whizzer’s room, and more than half of the time, it was another one of Cordelia’s. Marvin sent plenty of stuff too when he wasn’t visiting, but it was usually a card with a get well soon pun on the front. All of Whizzer’s gifts were crowded in a corner of the room. Among them was a big, pink teddy bear-- a gift from Trina and Mendel-- and a baseball mitt from Jason. 

“You should--” he coughed, but continued. “You should stay home at some point. For at least more than a day. If I were you, I would want to sleep somewhere more comfortable.”

“No,” Marvin replied bluntly. Whizzer opened his mouth to argue but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

Marvin took one of Whizzer’s hands and interlaced their fingers. In response, Whizzer squeezed his hand. 

As positive as Marvin tried to be, he knew that Whizzer was going away, and fast. He wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. He practically had his lover memorized, it wasn’t like he’d learn anything new. He knew exactly the way his hair bounced when he walked, and how it would curl over his cheeks if it was ruffled. He knew the exact color of Whizzer’s eyes and how they sparkled when he was excited or when he was being flirtatious. He knew how much taller Whizzer was and he knew what he looked like when he smiled that smile of his-- with his eyes and nose scrunching up and his sparkly white teeth revealing themselves.

Marvin just wasn’t ready for that to leave him.

 

***

There were a lot of things Whizzer could live for. 

He thought about all of these things frequently; his ever-so-close death pushing the thought onto him.

There was, of course, Marvin. A man he had, for once, truly loved. Someone Whizzer knew had changed his life. Someone who he knew like the back of his hand, someone he couldn’t have lived without. Someone who Whizzer struggled to describe when it came to how much he loved him. He knew Marvin loved him, just as he did, and he knew Marvin didn’t want Whizzer to die. 

He could live for Marvin.

Then there was Jason, Marvin’s son who had such admiration for Whizzer it was almost silly. Whizzer loved Jason, no doubt about it. He felt like Jason was like his son too. There were endless chess games to be played and endless conversations to be had and so many holidays to celebrate.

He could live for Jason.

Charlotte and Cordelia, his friends. How many more afternoons could they spend together? He wished he could have met them earlier, that they could have more time. It couldn’t be over so soon, could it?

He could live for Charlotte and Cordelia.

And there was also Trina and Mendel. They were never very close to Whizzer, but he was sure that having a death from a someone close to their family wouldn’t be a good feeling. He’d always wanted to be closer to them, after all.

He could live for Trina and Mendel. 

But the word "could" wasn't correct. He couldn’t live, not for much longer, whether he wanted to or not. 

Death had always frightened Whizzer-- mostly the uncertainty of it. The constant reminder that he had no idea when he would die-- soon or decades from now-- was just overwhelming to him. But now, with his grasp on life slowly loosening and death’s looming presence becoming more and more apparent, death didn’t scare him much anymore. What was he going to do about it anyway?

So as these thoughts swam around in Whizzer’s mind, he understood that death was going to come soon, and knew that they had already begun their tango.

 

***  
Whizzer had a lot of visitors on a particular day and was close to drifting off, but Marvin was still in his room. He had joined Whizzer on the bed, and he hadn’t yet let go of Whizzer’s hand after grabbing it a while earlier-- not that either of them minded. Whizzer felt comfort in knowing Marvin was there next to him, and, if he was able, Marvin would never let go of his hand. 

“I love you,” Marvin said suddenly. He felt like he didn’t have that many chances left to say it. 

“I love you too,” Whizzer replied, his eyes closed. He wasn’t sleeping, just resting his eyes. He didn’t want to sleep while Marvin was there. So he just stayed with his arms wrapped around Marvin, sick but content.

“I wish we were home,” Marvin said. 

“Yeah,” sighed Whizzer. “Me too, Marv.” Marvin brushed his finger over Whizzers’ slowly and looked at the ceiling. He didn’t have anything else to say unless he wanted to break down in tears. It was already a bit too late anyway-- a tear streaked down his cheek as Marvin scrunched his eyes together, completely wrecked. He finally had gotten what he wanted, his tight-knit family, but it was slipping too easily out of his fingers, like grains of sand. And there was nothing he could do, there was nothing he could have done. 

It just wasn’t fair to him, not at all. But knowing this and thinking about how much time Whizzer had left wasn’t going to do anything. So he just tried to focus on the little things. He focused on the feeling of Whizzer wrapped around him. He focused on Whizzer’s hands in his. He focused on the feeling of Whizzer’s chest rising and falling rhythmically. He focused on the way Whizzer spoke when he replied to him. He focused on their entangled legs on top of the soft, hospital supplied blankets. He focused on Whizzer’s embrace and how comforting it was to know he was there and that they were together.

He didn’t focus on how thin Whizzer was getting. He didn’t focus on the feeling of the rough hospital clothes Whizzer wore. He didn’t focus on how cold the room was and how different it was to their house. He didn’t focus on the impending feeling of time running out. And he absolutely did not think about how quiet it was going to be when Whizzer was gone. It hurt too much to do that. 

So Marvin and Whizzer remained there for a while, wrapped around each other and never letting go. 

 

***

As Jason read his prayers, Whizzer realized he had never felt this weak before. He shifted his weight heavily on Marvin. His head pounded, but Whizzer couldn’t interrupt the bar mitzvah. He just tried to breathe, in and out, and focus on Jason. Everyone around him looked so happy--Charlotte and Cordelia looked ecstatic that one: Jason was growing up, and two: people had actually liked Cordelia’s cooking for once. Trina looked tearful as she put her hands over her heart and watched Jason read. Mendel looked like he was so excited for the future, like this was the perfect step forward and he couldn’t wait for what would come next. Marvin looked so proud, wondering how Jason could have grown up to be so great. 

At least he was here to witness this. At least he got to see Jason’s first steps into becoming a man. That was one thing to be thankful for. A tight smile finally came to Whizzer’s lips, as tired as he was. His heart swelled with pride. He reached out his arm to Jason’s shoulder, leaning on Marvin so he wouldn’t fall. Whizzer didn’t say anything, just kept his hand on Jason for a little longer, with a proud but tiny smile. Then he could let go. That’s what Whizzer told himself, knowing the time was almost up. Jason met his gaze and he beamed. They got to share the bar mitzvah together. That made him happy. Finally, Whizzer let his hand drop, letting out a breath. His arm slung around Marvin, he pushed his full weight onto him so his knees wouldn’t give out. Charlotte quickly walked over to him and helped him into another room. 

As a few minutes of silence passed, the group of five people left in Whizzer’s old room staring at where Charlotte had just left. Time seemed to stop. That wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. That was too quick, Whizzer had to be okay. Right? He would come back in and they’d celebrate a bit more. He was just in need of some painkillers or something. That had to be true. It wasn’t over that quickly.

It couldn’t be. 

Whizzer wasn’t okay, they learned. Charlotte stepped slowly into the room, eyes rimmed with pink and her face solemn as she held in her grief. For a few seconds, she just kept opening her mouth, ready to say something, but she closed it quickly again and hiccuped quietly.

Charlotte was finally able to say, “Marvin… you should…” She didn’t need to finish as Marvin rushed out of the room, throat tight and swollen. He pushed open the door, breathing hard, and there was Whizzer. The heart monitor was the worst sound he had heard yet-- it was beating so slowly.

So slowly.

A small sob escaped Marvin’s lips. How could he bear to see this? Why was he being put through this?

Why was Whizzer being put through this? What did they do wrong? 

“He’s only got a few minutes left,” Charlotte said, pressing her hand to her face, looking unbelievably pained. Marvin’s lips turned downwards, then parted as he grabbed Whizzer’s hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that…” What was he sorry for? What could he say?

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t… I don’t know how I’ll live without you.” He squeezed Whizzer’s hands, trying to relish in his warmth as uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. He felt like he was drowning, like oxygen was being ripped out of his lungs every second he looked at his lover. He couldn’t breathe. He wouldn’t be able to breathe, not with Whizzer gone. How could he? How would he be able to even live without him? Who would he be?

“I-I wish we had more time. I don’t regret a second we spent together.” Marvin’s words and confessions spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall, trying to express everything he felt toward his lover until it was too late. “I would do this again, and again… and I would do so much for just… another hour with you.” He would do anything for another hour. Why couldn’t he get one more hour of playing racquetball, or cuddling in their bed, or holding hands? Whizzer’s hands were still in Marvin’s. 

“I wouldn’t know what love really is if you hadn’t loved me. I l-love you so much.” Whizzer’s thumb brushed over Marvin’s as his eyes held his gaze for a few seconds more. Marvin wished he could keep his eyes like they were now: they were still full of light, even for his last few minutes. 

Marvin didn’t want to live without that light, but he would have to. Somehow.

Whizzer’s lips-- the lips Marvin had kissed a thousand times, the lips he had felt on his so many times, the lips that Marvin would kill to kiss again-- were chapped and parted as Whizzer breathed in a few more times. So, so slowly. Whizzer gave Marvin’s hands an almost unnoticeably weak squeeze, and Marvin shattered with grief.

The heart monitor flatlined, and he cried.


End file.
